Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 674 - 391: We Surround North America!

Tijuana. Deep Pond.

Actually, just a small port, cruise ships and assault craft usually docked here, and it was bustling with tourists. But after the war began, it was requisitioned, and no one was allowed to approach.

And now...

A group of people on the shore, either sitting or standing, were identifiable by their badges as journalists from various countries.

A gantry crane loomed over them, with a very long rope attached. Looking closely, you could see a person hanging from it, head down, babbling loudly in a foreign language that no one understood.

Below, several sharks swam about, occasionally raising their heads and opening their gory, gaping jaws.

"Ah!!!"

Suddenly the rope slackened, and the person in mid-air, screaming, plummeted down with a splash larger than the Philippine diving team could make. The shark, as if startled, charged towards the victim with teeth and claws bared.

Ripping!

Devouring!

Blood began to bubble and froth in the water...

"OMG! OMG!! My God, ahh!!" One blonde female journalist couldn't bear it, knelt on the ground holding her head and screamed, her face turning green as she retched.

There was an uproar among the reporters.

Everyone felt the so-called "love" from Northern Mexico.

"Next!" Casare, with a cigarette in his mouth, called out. Two soldiers from the Northern Army pulled out an old man from the side, and it was none other than the commander of the "Invincible," Major General James Anderson. He no longer had his previous air of arrogance.

Bent over, he looked... drained of life.

As he was dragged out, his mouth still trembling, and when the rope was looped around his ankles, he couldn't help but cry out loud, "I am a Lord! A Great Britain General, I have surrendered, you can't kill me! You can't kill me!!"

A few British journalists couldn't help but wanted to speak up, but were held back by their colleagues.

Casare reached out to the security personnel accompanying him, and they handed over the microphone, "My Lord! I am sorry, but your country has abandoned you. Those high and mighty lords won't pay the ransom to take you back home. Blame them if you must!"

"You are not even worth Ten Pounds in their eyes!"

"Rest assured, after your death, the great General Victor will order the Navy to drive the sharks into the English Channel. Of course, on the way there, you should not be pulled out, otherwise, you will never make it back to your hometown."

This heart-wrenching statement was sure to humiliate the British government, considering it was a matter of several thousand lives!

"I surrender, don't kill me, I can serve the Mexican Navy! I have many secrets, I know a lot of navy secrets, don't kill me!" Major General James Anderson sobbed uncontrollably, begging for mercy.

The reporters were in shock.

They had never seen such a shameless general before.

They looked uniformly at their British colleagues, whose expressions were as uncomfortable as if they had eaten shit.

The commander on the ground looked at Casare, who had already raised his hand, just waiting to give the signal.

"Sir, there's news from the Governor's Mansion office." The secretary suddenly ran over and whispered in his ear. Casare's eyes twinkled, and smiling into the microphone, he said, "Lord, you are in luck, congratulations, you are still alive."

"Pack it up!"

When James Anderson was released from the rope, he fell on his behind, trembling as he looked at the Northern Army soldiers, "Can I... change my trousers."

Governor's Mansion office.

Victor greeted the representative of the HSBC Consortium.

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm.

This company, founded in London, had a market value of over 100 billion US Dollars, conducting business in Asia, Africa, Europe, Latin America, and Australia, particularly in HK, where they flourished during the economic boom of the 1980s.

Similarly…

They also had a good relationship with the British government.

"Governor, on behalf of the Royal Family, the Cabinet, as well as the 70 million people of Great Britain, I would like to negotiate with you regarding the prisoners," said Malcolm Lewis, the CEO of the HSBC North American Branch, forcing a smile.

He had been working in Mexico for five years, and before Victor's rise, HSBC reports were red. After Victor's ascent, the numbers on the reports plummeted, bringing tears to the eyes of those who saw them.

During the "economic reforms," HSBC was one of the first corporations willing to form joint ventures with the Northern Army, considered quite obedient and having done nothing inappropriate. Victor quite liked these... fat pigs.

Malcolm Lewis was forced to come.

The "Shark Bungee" was broadcast live, with a 100% death rate. Many British people had seen it, and the Cabinet could no longer sit still. They immediately contacted HSBC, hoping they could bring the people back.

As for the money…

The Parliament was genuinely broke; the treasury could feed rats.

Could you cover for us first, and we will pay in installments?

If that doesn't work, we'll use national produce as a mortgage!

And so the HSBC executives sent Malcolm Lewis...

"The British government sent you to talk?"

Victor looked at the businessman in front of him nervously, smiled softly, "What's their bottom line?"

???! Who asks that right off the bat?

Can I really tell you that on my turf?

But Malcolm Lewis looked at the gold revolver in the other's hand, the classic Colt Python revolver.

It was a gift from the people of Baja California State to him. He really liked it and always carried it with him; it represented his weight in the people's hearts.

He bluntly stated, "160 million British Pounds!"

Work is work, but life is life; it's important to keep those separate. He had no intention of dying for the company.

Victor was pleased that the other man was cooperative, "I want 158 million British Pounds, and you can take the remaining 2 million for your tea."

Malcolm Lewis's hand trembled, accepting a 2 million kickback?!